


tales for the soul | offbeatheart's unfinished wips since 2017

by offbeatheart (fleetingconstant)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: ChanBaek - Freeform, ChanKaiSoo - Freeform, EXO - Freeform, KaiSoo - Freeform, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 05:19:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13804257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleetingconstant/pseuds/offbeatheart
Summary: TABLE OF CONTENTS:I.EXOGEDDON 2017: love (is all you need) /  so we'll sail up to the sun - Chanbaeksummary: in a land that surrenders to silence, a group of rebels form a band and decide to make noise.II.KAISOOMMER 2017: the fools who dream - KaisooIII.EXOT3 2017: someone that loves you - chankaisoosummary: sometimes home isn't four walls. sometimes it's two sets of eyes and three colliding heartbeats.IV.GOLDENEXO 2017: the forgotten prince - kaisoo





	1. I. exogeddon 2017: love (is all you need) / so we'll sail up to the sun - chanbaek

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! It's been a while since I made something. The sad news is, I'm not sure if I'll have enough time to actually finish anything else.
> 
> The good news, however, is that I've attempted a bunch of wips in 2017 that haven't been shared to anyone else, except now.
> 
> These wips have been in the dungeon for so long, and I think it's time to let them out.
> 
> Happy 2018 everyone!
> 
>  
> 
> Love,  
> Moi

 

 

**I.**

**for exogeddon 2017**

**love (is all you need) / so we'll sail up to the sun**

**chanbaek**

**summary:** in a land that surrenders to silence, a group of rebels form a band and decide to make noise.

 **a/n:** I was listening to a lot of beatles at this time, and felt that it resonated to the story of how freedom of expression or expression of any form or creative art was prohibited. conformists were the safe people, while rebels were the squatters of society.

 

-*-

 

Silence. It often appears in the darkness—through the open window of Baekhyun’s tiny office it drifts inside, creeping into his skin while the hard lines on his face crease in concentration. He reads through a pile of paperwork in the lonely night. The lamp is still switched on and the air has turned stale.  
  
Silence. It’s what always comes but never goes, a spoken rule that has become of this land.  
  
Silence _, and ten years of it_. Ever since the outbreak happened, the government had sought a way to maintain a sense of order and promised the people a new country, one with less talk and completely under their control. Baekhyun is reminded of this every single day, surrounded in the City Hall’s blank concrete walls with nothing but the emptiness of the room, trapped inside the Constitution’s words.  
  
  
  
“...  
  
_[Article III: Section 1]_  
No conformist shall be deprived of life or property without due process of law,  
upon probable cause.  
  
[Article III: Section 2]  
The privacy of communication and correspondence shall be inviolable  
except upon lawful order of the court.  
  
[Article III: Section 3]  
Freedom of speech or of the press, or the people peaceably to assemble,  
is not permitted by law.  
  
[Article III: Section 4]  
The exercise of any form of expression is strictly prohibited.  
The law shall provide for penal and civil sanctions for all conformists that violate this section,  
and will be held accountable for their actions   
  
…”  
  
  
  
Baekhyun would read them over and over again in the morning paper, memorize them until he falls asleep and thinks of nothing else. He was a conformist, after all, a mere follower of the city. Belief, however, he thinks is an entirely different thing, a matter he still hasn't come to terms with. Conformists such as he would claim that silence equates to freedom from disturbance and tranquility of the country. The more people would try to open their mouths, the less that problems get solved. There are nights when Baekhyun would dream and he would see nothing but black, a deep hollow darkness while he remains in a state of soundless slumber. Most nights he stays awake like this, fights the sleep off from his consciousness to able to think and to hear his own thoughts, perhaps to run from them.  
  
Time moves rather slowly, with the hands of the clock chasing one after another. He taps his pen on the desk. _One. Two. Three._ The soft buzzing in the air resumes as the clock continues to tick, but the quiet only seems louder. Briefly, Baekhyun wonders if it was noisier out in the streets or inside his own head.  
  
And then there is something else. He hears the faintest of sound, a man’s voice fading into the background in a soft echo.

_You say you want a revolution, well you know, we all want to change the world._

It comes just as it goes. There’s a pause, a brief moment of the quiet that brings forth a dullness into the atmosphere. It makes Baekhyun abruptly stop, putting a hold to what he was doing to peer slightly over his shoulder and see where the sound had just come from. At the other side of the window is a blank view of the silent city, a skyline of buildings in a dark setting but still being able to identify the structures with the tiniest gleam of light from the moon that shines above the town.  
  
Until suddenly, there's that sound again. A voice, accompanied by something else that is similar to a plucking of strings, progressing more and more until it’s enough to reach Baekhyun’s ear. That sound… He thinks he’d imagined things at first. Maybe it was the quiet playing with his mind. Maybe he was losing sleep and he was hallucinating. But why would he even be thinking about it in the first place?

_You tell me that it's evolution, well you know, we all want to change the world._

The sound does not stop and only grows stronger, flowing at a steady pace. Baekhyun tries to avoid it. No matter how much he tries to block the strings and the voice from his ear, there is no possible way to escape it, especially not with all the _noises_ in his head.  
  
That  _noise_ , Baekhyun tries to think,  _Who the hell is responsible for it?_  
  
Swiftly, he turns in his swivel chair, getting on his feet to approach the window and look outside. At the bottom of the buildings are the narrow and empty streets. Nothing seems entirely unusual about the calm and gloomy view below, except for the continuous singing that booms loud into the night.  
  
When Baekhyun looks closer, he sees a man. He can see him from his third story window, standing in front of the main entrance to the city hall’s building. From the distance the view permits, this unknown man is seemingly young, a sense of pride and confidence visibly present in his stance. The most noticeable thing, however, is the thing strapped over his shoulder, stretched wide in front of his body as he carries it.  
  
In that moment, the strings start to appear louder in his ears again. It’s a strange effect that happens when he gazes down at the man and the instrument that gives the impression of sound playing much closer.

_But when you talk about destruction, don’t you know that you can count me out?_

Ahh, Baekhyun realizes. So, this is his doing, that man with the guitar. The rulebreaker. The sole creator of noise. At the back of his head, he knows that whatever this man is doing is wrong. It’s supposed to be. _Not only is this wrong_ , he thinks, _this is against the law. The exercise of any form of expression is strictly prohibited_.  
  
Music—what people used to call it—is one of many—the gravest form of expression there is in the silent city of Abbey. For all he knows, going against this law could mean years of imprisonment, maybe even a lifetime. He wonders if this person with the guitar is aware about how just this one crimeful act can change his whole life and can cost a great damage to many others.  
  
"What is he thinking?" Baekhyun asks himself.  
  
Irrational as this is, he does not stop looking. A sense of curiosity overrides his logical thoughts and the other mental arguments inside his own head. These days, everyone's got to be more careful about the decisions they make. At this time and age, there is not a single person with any true knowledge about what became of this town, yet no one should stand above the law.  
  
Especially this man. This ridiculous man.

_Don't you know it's gonna be alright?_

As the song slowly fades into a stop, Baekhyun thinks it's time to go. He lifts his arms over his head, reaching for the window's frame to close it. But just when he is about to pull it down, he freezes in his spot.  
  
The man is staring inside his window, directly at him. He swallows. From the way he holds his gaze for what feels longer than wanted, there is not a doubt that he had caught him looking, that the song had reached his window and he'd been a witness to the scene. Under the moon's gleaming light, he watches his mouth lift into a challenging smug manner. The ball was in Baekhyun's hands now . He could do anything he wanted with this man--He could report him, take him off the street and send him straight to jail.  
  
But before he could, the man looks up at Baekhyun, grinning, sending him a playful bow before turning his back and walking away with the instrument swaying behind his back.  
  
The man is ridiculous. And fearless.  
  
Baekhyun shuts the window, the noise no longer outside but repeatedly singing into his ear.  
  
  
  
  
He hears singing again through his open window.  
  
Through the open window it drifts inside his office, with Baekhyun sorting out folders from his shelves. It’s present; it appears as an uninvited guest. He returns to his desk and sits back against his swivel chair to close his eyes, exhausted from another strenuous day of work.  
  
But the music’s echoed presence disrupts the quiet.

  
_We all want to change the world_ , the man continues to sing from outside with the same song. His voice grows louder by the minute, trying to get the words across to him just as the strings weigh heavy on his ears.  
  
If anyone else had been hearing this, they would have filed a report on him—no questions asked. If Baekhyun was in his right mind and was thinking straight, maybe he would too. He should have done it the first time he heard him and his <i>noise</i>. There was not a doubt in this world that he’d be rewarded. In fact, maybe they would even offer him a new position.  
  
But it was getting late, and the night only gets darker. He’s tired. Baekhyun just wants to go home.  
  
Besides, he isn’t one to engage in such acts of righteousness. Ever since he’d been reborn, his view of the world in which he lives inside had always been a little obscured. There was something about this new town that didn’t feel exactly virtuous to him. He couldn’t even last talking to someone for five minutes without a subject that leads to _the government’s rise to greatness_  and _the Constitution’s goodwill_. He avoids this, making him socially inept. Instead of standing up to the outlaws, Baekhyun shies away from them and the extreme views from both sides of society. Maybe he just isn’t cut out to be patriotic in a city with no middle ground. He might as well just stay a follower, and nothing more.  
  
He glances at his window—soft wind whizzing through the air—staring at the night sky. He doesn’t approach it. He doesn’t look outside his window to see the man, but he knows he’s out there, with his guitar. He doesn’t need to, for he can still hear him.  
  
Baekhyun—the quiet conformist—does nothing to prevent the music that spreads outside of the City Hall’s suburban building.  
  
So what does he do?  
  
For some inexplicable reason, he listens. The sound is still foreign, new, compared to the silence of the atmosphere. But it makes Baekhyun _feel_ something inside of him—a kind of unsettling, wondering, yearning. Maybe it’s the uncertainty, the thrill of the unknown that sends a chill down his spine.  
  
It’s company inside his lonely silent night.

 _You say you'll change the constitution, well you know, we all want to change your head,_ _  
_ _You tell me it's the institution, well you know, you better free your mind instead_

It follows Baekhyun for three more nights—The same song with the same assertive voice.  
  
He sits alone inside his office one evening and begins to wonder about the man’s intentions. He was there night after night, singing songs outside in the city suburbs with low population. _What did he want to prove when there was no one willing to listen?_  
  
Except Baekhyun—a witness. He was the only person who saw the man play that night, when he first sang his song. He saw the way he looked at him that night. His stare was skeptical, it’s as though he knew about people like him. Whatever he thought, Baekhyun knew he’d be wrong, except for one thing—he’s never stopped listening.  
  
His fingers tap down on the table, dancing blindly to the memory of the strings in his head.  
  
Tonight, he waits for it. He knows what to expect—the rich flow of strings that cascade seamlessly through his window; the loud, raspy voice singing freely across the sleeping town, cutting through the conventional silence to possibly summon an uproar.  
  
The clock’s hands move painfully slow.  
  
The seconds count down to its arrival, yet strangely, nothing comes.  
  
The silence lingers; it stretches to seconds, and lasts up to a minute. Baekhyun is left wondering if he’d been caught. He stands from his chair, walking hurriedly to the window and peeking down into the street.  
  
True enough, the police arrive—three enforcers dressed in solid black uniforms, surrounding the bold musician. Baekhyun hides his body from the window but quietly watches the scene unfold before him, depending solely on their body language. At the back of his head, he can hear the music following the beat of their every move.

 

_Don't you know it's gonna be alright?_

 

Outside, the man starts talking, tries to casually negotiate with them. The enforcers seem unimpressed, crowding him until one of them blocks Baekhyun’s only view of him. What his eyes catch is something unexpected—one of the enforcers landing a punch straight to his gut, then followed by a hard kick from another enforcer.  


_Alright,_ __  
_Alright,_  


Baekhyun freezes. The musician’s height allows him to see hints of pain that register on his face and his guitar falling to the floor. He goes down with it, collapsing to the ground as the armed enforcers continue to beat him up, defenseless.

 

_Alright,_

 

Baekhyun wants to scream, wants to shout so as to call for help. And then he realizes that the consequences wouldn’t be in his favor. He watches helplessly how the enforcers leave, unscathed, power embodied in them.

 

_Alright,_

 

When he sees the musician lying still on the ground, that’s how he knows—in the city of Abbey, there is no middle ground.

 

 

The night after the incident, Baekhyun looks out his window only to find an empty street.  
The man and his guitar are no longer there, gone with the noise that they called music. The melody however, stays like a memory in his head for just a little while longer.

  
_Don't you know it's gonna be alright?_  
  


 

A week had quickly passed since the incident, but Baekhyun can still hear the voices—particularly one. He tries not to think about him, even as he steps out into the evening and walks along the path where the man had first sang a song. _Ignorance is bliss_ , people say, but apparently not with what Baekhyun had seen or heard.  
  
He leaves his office earlier than usual tonight. He is the only person outside, walking down the street alone with the moon that continues to shine bright in the dark sky and serves as his own light. There’s an unidentified weight that strains his shoulders, but he knew the factors that caused it were both the guilt and the questions that now follow him home. In the quiet of the night, even the tiniest of sounds become apparent, such as his thick leather boots meeting the ground in heavy steps and the wind gushing through the air. It escalates to his ear, that Baekhyun almost loses his mind. It wasn’t this loud inside his head before, at least not until the musician.  
  
But the musician’s whereabouts are not to be any of Baekhyun’s concern. It isn't supposed to be, except that doesn't stop him from wondering where the man had gone and where he'd taken all his noise. Baekhyun's apartment is a fifteen-minute walk from the city hall, supposedly ten if he only walked faster. He doesn't find the need to be in a hurry, especially not when he’s lost his way and doesn't know where he's headed, now stumbling into an empty alley. He’s always taken the same path, but he thinks he’s missed a corner somewhere.  
  
The brick walls are too identical and common for him to recognise which direction to take, but Baekhyun thinks he can retrace his steps. The night is still dark and the moon continues to be his only guide, but another kind of light catches his attention. Near the dead end of the alley and drawn in the shape of a yellow submarine, is the flicker of a neon signage, blinking at him. Baekhyun has never been to this side before, nor has he ever come across this sign despite living in the small suburban city. Below it is an open door, one where he thinks the signage leads him to.  
  
It's inviting and tempting, but it's the conformist's wild sense of curiosity that takes over his rationality. Baekhyun makes it to the doorway when he realizes he needs to go down a flight of stairs. He meets a tiny and narrow hallway surrounded in red light as soon as he takes the last step, with another door waiting for him at the end. The brightness of the light distracts his eyes and makes his head ache; he doesn't remember seeing this much color. The closer he gets to the door, the closer he gets to seeing the other side of the empty walls.  
  
The moment Baekhyun enters the room, he finds that the underground speakeasy turns out to be anything but empty. The yellow submarine is dimly lit and fits more than a fair crowd of twenty, with lush leather booths and round tables situated along every corner. The new discovery lures him in somehow, that Baekhyun finds himself walking inside without hesitation, making his way over to where a bar sits at one side while a vacant space resides at the center. Guests begin to notice his presence when he moves, curious eyes following him as he takes a seat in front of an empty stool.  
  
As far as he knew, after-hour joints are not to be spoken about in the town of Abbey. Establishments such as this are declared to be prohibited, unsuitable to the conformist taste. The government is keen on their nationwide curfew, that most conformists would go straight home after clerical work, keeping their silence. It’s a surprise that Baekhyun had even come across this place; he’s never encountered anything like it. Although they may exist inevitably, conformists would find themselves repulsed and would quickly steer clear from them.  
  
But then again, Baekhyun had always been different. He knows why people are looking, along with the nasty glares they send towards his direction. Baekhyun had come in his white uniform—a loose turtleneck sweater braced around his neck matched with white pants, crafted in high quality scuba fabric. Two black straps are paired with two metal rings that go all the way to the back as a harness, serving as a badge that entails his city hall position.  
  
Inside the yellow submarine, Baekhyun was a conformist inside a territory of loud, noise-making rebels, all dressed in colorful and overwhelming patterned pieces of clothing. He can hear the loud murmuring since he'd entered, rebels whispering from ear-to-ear about the uninvited guest. Clearly, he's the odd one out, out of place in this new kind of world that he stepped inside. For a second, he thinks about whether the best decision was to leave right now before something happens, before they attempted to do anything else. Instead he turns away from them, ignoring the set of eyes that continue to bore into his back as he faces the bar.  
  
"Anything I can get you?" A man suddenly speaks through the loud murmurs, voice clear as he approaches him from the opposite side of the counter. Even under the dim light, Baekhyun notices the floral patterns on his shirt that burst in tropical colors. His hair is blond, an almost rusty kind of yellow that shines like gold under the glimmer of a candlelight.  
  
The liquor selection is nothing like the sophisticated wines or the luxurious champagnes in Baekhyun's world. Stacked up in shelves behind the bartender are the strong and lethal alcohol. Any conformist would rather be dead than be seen under the influence of the poison up there. The Yellow Submarine offers a wide variety to choose from: _Jaegermeister, vodka, whiskey._ He recognizes a few names, having heard them from somewhere he can't remember, while others continue to remain foreign.  
  
Baekhyun feels courageous tonight, insane more so.  
  
"What do you suggest?" Baekhyun asks.  
  
The bartender lifts an eyebrow at the suspicious conformist, surprise slowly marring his face from his question.  
  
"Tell me what you want."  
  
Baekhyun doesn't exactly know what that is. But there's something about this place that makes his blood run in his veins and his heart beat fast. He thinks maybe he needs to feel a little reckless.  
  
"I'm not sure," he answers, uncertain of what he's getting himself into but tries to ask, "do you have something that could... fuck me up a bit?"  
  
The bartender laughs—sardonic. Baekhyun could hear him within earshot, although he doesn't seem to mind.  
  
"An absinthe, then."  
  
He leaves to prepare his drink, pouring two or three colored shots into a mixer. It's too fast for him to see and doesn't quite catch his movement until he's shaking the container in front of him and serving it in a glass. He takes a whiff of the glass, identifying the strong smell that reeks of alcohol. As soon as he takes it into his mouth, the liquid quickly slides inside his body and leaves a sudden burning sensation that flows from his throat down to his stomach. His body immediately rejects the poison, causing the liquid to shoot straight back up until he's lurching forward and spitting it back into his glass.  
  
"What the fuck is in this drink?!" Baekhyun exclaims, face pulled into a grimace with his throat still on fire as the bartender laughs at him.  
  
“It’s what you asked for, wasn’t it?” The bartender tells him, trying to hold back his laughter. “That shit is gonna make your head explode. Consider yourself _fucked_.”  
  
Baekhyun can still taste the hot poison in his tongue when the bartender continues to make fun of him, murmuring, “Didn’t think you’d take it anyway.”  
  
“What do we have here?”  
  
The sound of another voice joins in, coming from the space next to him. He turns his head and finds a man, petite and perhaps the same height as him. His hair is short and slicked back, dyed in a light shade of brown. His clothes are layered in a cream colored blouse also patterned in flowers, topped with a dark long jacket and a green scarf wrapped around his neck tied into a ribbon. His face is gentle, eyes wide and seemingly approachable as freckles are scattered along his cheeks.  
  
The bartender has already left them alone when they meet, and Baekhyun keeps his mouth shut.  
  
“Are you lost, honey?” The petite man asks sweetly as he continues to approach him. “It’s rare for people like you to come sneaking in here.  <i>Really</i> rare.”  
  
His voice is friendly and bright. He tries not to generalize, but he doesn’t seem like a bad person to talk to unlike the other rebels inside this underground joint. Baekhyun’s curiosity builds up, wondering if this person would be able to give him the answers he wanted to know.  
  
“What is this place?” Baekhyun asks him.  
  
He smiles, shrugging his shoulders. "It's where the party happens, where you would find rebels frequenting for a good time. Sometimes, it's a hideout. Sometimes, a place of escape and refuge."  
  
The man moves closer, head leaning forward so it stays right in front of his own.  
  
"Most times however," he says with eyes unwavering, mouth slowly forming into a smirk, "it's anything you want it to be."  
  
Then, comes commotion—Rebels standing from their seats to form a crowd in the space Baekhyun remembers had been empty just moments ago. He finally notices the stage in front of the moshpit, lights shining over them while a pile of equipment stands in position. He doesn't understand what's happening right now. He can only hear the excited howls and screams as a group of three begin to make their way to the stage. Judging by the way they move on stage, Baekhyun can tell that they were desired, looked up to by the rebels that watch along with him.  
  
"I bet you haven't seen anything like this?" The man asks next to him. "They're our main event."  
  
The cheers only grow louder, heart beating quick as they take their places on stage. When the man's loud bass plays and the snarl of the cymbals from the other man begin, Baekhyun puts the pieces together.  
  
  
  



	2. II. kaisoommer 2017: the fools who dream - kaisoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where kyungsoo is a barista wanting to do broadway, and jongin is a receptionist for a ballet dance studio and a dreamer of dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: this is sort of a lalaland au so hope you'll enjoy!

 

 

**II.**

**kaisoommer 2017:**

**the fools who dream**

**kaisoo**

 

**-*-**

 

 **winter**.

  
  
The sun beats down over the cold winter season. It’s during the morning rush hour when Kyungsoo, twenty-seven years old, is stuck in a gridlock—a traffic jam happening in the middle of the freeway—looking out towards the skyline that floats from a distance under the blazing heat. His story begins behind the steering wheel of an old-generation 2004 Prius. He hears the radio that plays different songs, like the current rock tune that quickly segues to a disco track. There is music on the radio, but he listens to the noise everywhere else. Just right next to him on his left is another car blasting a hip-hop beat. Behind it not so far away is a station wagon that listens to the news.

The center lane begins to move as cars pass his Prius, one by one. An old interview suddenly comes up on the radio. He doesn’t recognize the person talking through the speaker in his dashboard, but he listens intently, and soaks up his words like a sponge. The more that this person talks, the more that Kyungsoo becomes engrossed, drawn in by the inspiring message of his words.

Too engrossed, as a matter of fact, that he doesn’t realize the sound of a beep honking behind him. His eyes shoot back up in reality when a maroon Geo Prism staggers forward, almost bumping his car as he changes lanes in the process.

 _This driver is a lunatic,_ Kyungsoo thinks. He’s angry but passive. He’s too infatuated by the speaker’s inspiring speech on the radio, so he tries not to let just one person ruin his day.

For a moment, the Geo Prism pauses next to his old Prius. Kyungsoo manages to peek inside for a second to see a man dressed in aviator shades that doesn’t show his eyes, shaking his head at him in disapproval. Before he can even respond, his car drives away. He scowls. _Coward_.

The traffic dies and Kyungsoo leaves the freeway, then soon enters a private gate before reaching a large studio lot. He easily finds a vacant spot for him to park, before getting out to walk across the other side.

Surrounding him is a land of never-ending stories, he believes. Kyungsoo passes the fixtures of the old studio: 1960’s buildings, light equipment, fake backdrops carried by greeting staffs that pass his way. He smiles back at them and sends them a friendly wave with his hand.

 He makes a turn on the corner and visits the studio’s coffee shop. He sees the familiar teal-striped walls and greets the barista with a friendly smile, approaching the cashier with an order in mind.

“Will you be having the usual, Kyungsoo?” The barista lights up when he sees him. _One regular iced caramel macchiato, is it?_

Kyungsoo nods, a bright ball of energy as he walks to the claiming counter.

“Today’s a good day.”

 “It always is, isn’t it?”

The barista prepares his coffee and hands it to him on the counter, another smile appearing on her face. Kyungsoo reciprocates, and just when he is about to leave he notices the view outside. A golf cart pulls over in front of the coffee shop, and a passenger quickly steps down from it.

The new guest enters the scene—a woman around her thirties, walking inside the shop as all eyes are immediately set on her. Her yellow satin dress flows elegantly across her lean frame, while her silk scarf covers her head mysteriously. She is strikingly beautiful, graceful when she reaches the front of the cashier. The manager immediately pops out from the back door to greet her.

The barista by the cashier, the customers on their tables, Kyungsoo from the counter—all cannot help but stare at the actress, shaken by her presence. He even catches one of the customers lean in and whisper soft words to another, pointing discreetly towards her back turned to them.

Time stops for Kyungsoo at this moment. The realization comes to him slowly, that the lovely actress holds Kyungsoo’s dream in her hands.

“I’ll just have a black coffee, please.” The actress greets.

The Manager commands the barista, who jumps a little from the sound of his voice but works in the speed of a bullet train. She gets it done pronto, but the manager takes the cup from her while she’s left with a frown.

“Coffee’s on us,” The Manager tells her. She takes his hand as he gives her cup by the cashier.

“Oh no, I insist.”

The actress finally pays. She doesn’t make it to the counter where Kyungsoo watches the scene unfold in front of him. Their eyes meet briefly, and she sends him a smile—courteous and polite—as she drops a bill into the tip jar. He continues to watch her walk off and leave the coffee shop, while customers’ eyes follow her right until she hops into the golf cart and drives away.

A little despondent, Kyungsoo leaves right after that and continues to lead his story. He heads towards a path that guides him to the building with a theater inside. He can already see the familiar lightbox from outside, the beaming black letters of an ongoing musical left on display and setting a small fire to his heart. It feels a little like home, close but still so far away. He walks hastily. He’s a bit late and still needs time to prepare before the big show.

Kyungsoo enters inside the building and goes straight to changing his clothes. He walks out a few minutes after, steps inside the ticket booth wearing his uniform and manages to paint a perfect smile on his face.  He’s ready to face his audience—the people that start to surround him and file together to purchase their tickets. When people begin to move inside the building to see the show, he is once again left alone inside the ticket booth. Not for long it seems, because Kyungsoo steps out and quietly sneaks into the theater. The room is pitch black, with heads disappearing into the dark room with the only light remaining from the stage that casts down on the actors that sing and dance to the tune of the music.

They shine bright like a city of stars.

The world continues to move just as Kyungsoo’s story, but he finds himself still dreaming, still unsure of the ending.

  
  
  
In the same morning traffic jam this morning is another story intertwined.

Jongin, twenty-five years old, hates the traffic. He drives his maroon Geo Prism almost hitting the bumper of another man’s 2004 Prius and misses by merely an inch just as he begins to switch lanes. He’s even lucky enough not to have bumped into anyone else from the narrow intervals between him and the other busy vehicles.

Truthfully, it wasn’t his fault. He wouldn’t have almost ran into the Prius if the driver had seen the other cars moving ahead of him.

He’s more focused on the road now, managing to cut in and transfer victoriously to the center lane before quickly locking eyes with the owner of the old generation Prius. The man’s eyes are larger in size compared to his own covered by aviator shades. They also seem to be quite familiar. He leaves those thoughts at the back of his mind, only shaking his head at the man. While the Prius’s direction leads straight ahead, Jongin cuts out of the traffic and heads onto a free-flowing freeway.

A few minutes later, Jongin finds himself at a tiny breakfast place and ends up sitting outside. He’s just quit smoking, and the waiter gives him a familiar nod before handing him a cup of coffee.

The wind softly blows in his hair and Jongin gazes across the street—at a tiny establishment with a 80s façade. He drinks his coffee as he reads the last two words etched above the door: **DANCE STUDIO**.

It doesn’t take long before a car starts to pull over. Once the car stops in front of the dance studio, two people hop out--dance teachers he recognizes--entering the dance studio with Jongin watching the building door open and shut. He follows right after.

Jongin feels like he’s being mocked everyday. He watches the children step inside the reception, greeting him as they ask their parents to fill up the sign-up sheets, watching their eyes turn into tiny crescents with a childlike excitement as they are dressed in their rose colored tutus and their ballet pointe shoes. Jongin watches from the door as they get into their positions and stand on their toes. They clutch on to the metal bar, one leg raised up in a line with their hips. They do the same motion several times before they get into another position.

The ballet instructors ask them to take turns as they do their spins, and Jongin continues to watch them pirouette one by one, their reflections dancing beautifully in the mirror.

  



	3. III. exot3 2017: someone that loves you - chankaisoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sometimes home isn't four walls. sometimes it's two pairs of eyes and three colliding heartbeats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: a first attempt at a polygamous relationship, and one I admittedly was really excited about. I wanted to do a lot in terms of the characters' dynamics and character development. it was pretty exciting to me. Too bad this didn't push through :( Also inspired by the song, Someone That Loves You by Honne. Please listen to this!

 

 

**III.**

**for exot3 2017**   
****

**someone that loves you**

**chankaisoo**

 

 

**-*-**

 

Morning drifts past the bedroom window inside Unit 2B.

Jongin is a witness to this—eyes opening as soon as the sun peeks through the blinds, casting its beaming light to the dim room and spilling across the shared bed. The first thing that comes to his mind is to check the time. He squints, blindly searching for his phone on the bedside table next to him with the messy fumbling of his hand.

His phone reads 7:30am. _Shit_. He didn't expect this day would come so fast.

The sheets rustle underneath him and the bed depresses when Jongin shifts his weight, body lifting up to move and carefully attending to the sleeping one next to him.

“Hey,” he calls quietly, draping an arm over Kyungsoo's small form—his back turned away from him—the warmth of his skin coming into contact with his own.

Jongin pulls him close, leaning forward to plant a soft kiss to his shoulder.

"Kyungsoo."

His voice is clearer now, lips placing two more kisses on the same patch of skin. He only earns an inaudible hum in return, can feel the sound rumble and vibrate from his chest.

Grinning at his presence, Jongin tries calling for him out loud one more time. "Kyungsoo. Babe?"

It’s silent for a moment, until another voice caves in.

"What time is it?" Kyungsoo asks groggily, a deep and calm baritone filling the bedroom with his sound.

"Time for me to wake you up, sleepyhead," Jongin answers, smiling against his skin before resting his chin on top of his shoulder.

“Why?"

“Because you asked me to, remember?" he leaves one last kiss to his shoulder, "We need to be ready soon."

"Okay." Kyungsoo says, almost like a promise that he would get up.

Only he doesn't move. Jongin notices his eyes are still closed and watches the steady rise and fall of his chest. He finds it adorable and endearing how he feigns consciousness, but as much as he loved to watch his boyfriend dream, the surprise he'd planned would be ruined if he didn't take charge and stay focused on the job at hand.

Today is an important day for Kyungsoo, and last night he’d requested for Jongin to set the alarm and make sure he woke up on time. He’s not doing a really good job at the moment.

"It's sunday today." Jongin has to remind him, thinking that he would understand what he was trying to insinuate.

Kyungsoo only mumbles sleepily, an indication that he hears him but isn't quite listening.

"Sunday."

"August four."

"Uh-huh."

Jongin is starting to think that he's failed.

A part of him wants Kyungsoo to sleep just a little bit more and rest, while a larger part of him knows how long he'd been waiting for this moment. It would be a selfish crime to let him miss something like this, especially when it involved someone else, someone that was special to him.

"We need to be at the airport in about thirty minutes before Chanyeol's plane lands."

Apparently, that's all it takes.

Kyungsoo slowly sits up, turning to Jongin with the prettiest of smiles matched with a look of happiness and longing. "Chanyeol's coming back," Kyungsoo says softly, as if he's just realized what was about to happen and he was fully aware of things that it finally sinks down on him.

"Yes."

“It’s today."

“It’s today," Jongin tells him as both hands begin to cup his face, thumbs brushing over his cheeks, "You're going to see him again."

Kyungsoo's smile glows even more now, face breaking into a burst of excitement before he loops his arms around his neck, leaning forward to pull him into a chaste kiss and a warm hug. The moment doesn’t last long, because he suddenly pulls away and remembers how they are both supposed to be in a hurry.

“Right,” Kyungsoo murmurs, “The airport. Got it. Shoot. I’m going to take a shower.” He rises from the bed first and runs—practically taking big steps—towards the bathroom and shuts the door.

Jongin is looking at it with an amused grin crossing his face when seconds later, the door opens again with Kyungsoo’s head peeking out.

“Although, would it be really disgusting if I just shower later?”

“Kyungsoo.” Jongin reprimands.

“Okay okay!” Kyungsoo yells at him in panic, “Nevermind, I’ll shower. Thank you for waking me up, Jongin. You know how much I love you, don’t you?”

The smile on Jongin's face softens then, along with his heart. When he looks at Kyungsoo, he gets the feeling he’s always known that his eyes were meant for him. He is so beautiful, like the sun was always on his back and the morning glow never stops shining on his face.

“I love you too.” He answers, and the way he says it is quiet and oh, so simple.

Kyungsoo shuts the door once more, and it is then that his smile slowly fades.

Because today when Kyungsoo looks back, his eyes were meant for more than just Jongin.

 

****  
  
“Can’t this car move any faster?!”

They manage to drive out of their neighbourhood taking every shortcut they knew that existed, weaving past the busiest streets and exiting the highway, all in a matter of fifteen minutes. They lived fairly close to the airport but anticipated the heavy traffic that would pile up at the road lanes such as the one they now come across, forcing them to pull into a stop. Chanyeol had sent an early text to Kyungsoo while he’d been asleep telling him his flight had been delayed by a few minutes, but it isn’t enough reassurance when he checks the current time at the dashboard and sinks his head against it, groaning.

“We’re in front of a stoplight,” Jongin comforts him, taking a quick glance at the anxiousness on his face and the closed hands in front of him before staring back at the road, “We should be able to make it in time, don’t worry. Do you need water? You look like you’re about to faint.”

“I’m fine,” he answers shakily before leaning back against his seat. “I just feel like I swallowed a whole zebra and need to puke, that’s all. No big deal.”

Jongin wants to laugh, but concern marrs his face the moment he takes another glance at his boyfriend's shaky hands. “What are you so nervous about, Kyungsoo? You were already seeing him before he even left for L.A., it won’t be your first time meeting him.”

Kyungsoo cards his fingers through his hair and puffs. “I know it’s just—It’s been two months. He’s had a lot of time to think about what he's getting himself into." He stares out the window, watching the world move while they remain immobile inside Jongin's sedan. "A lot of things can change in two months, can't it? So, what if he does change his mind? What if he realizes that getting into a relationship with me is just a big mistake, then the minute he steps down from the plane, he breaks up with me?”

Jongin recognizes this feeling. The worries Kyungsoo had were far too familiar to him. Ever since he'd known about Chanyeol and realized what he meant to Kyungsoo, these worries had become some of his own. Frankly to Jongin, it still is.

He reaches for one of Kyungsoo's soft trembling hands, covering it with his own and intertwining their fingers perfectly together. "Chanyeol is not going to break up with you," he assures him, smiling softly while tugging his hand and gently pressing it to one of his cheeks. "And if he does break up with you, it's the most stupid decision he'll ever make."

He squeezes it, causing Kyungsoo to break into a shy smile with a face full of affection.

"I'm not complaining though," Jongin adds, leaving a kiss to the back of his hand with a teasing glint in his eyes before saying, "That means I'll have you all to myself."

He yelps when Kyungsoo lands a strong punch to his arm at his remark, but is also granted a quick kiss before the light turns green and he's screaming for him to step on the gas pedal.

 

 

They're late by a few minutes, but they manage to reach the airport for what feels like an eternity, walking inside the terminal and searching for the arrival gate, much to Kyungsoo's dismay. Jongin watches Kyungsoo already a few steps ahead of him, placing his hands inside the pockets of his jeans as he nervously scans the area.

People are scattered all around, the sounds of wheels under the trolley carts continuously rolling from one place to another. It's not as crowded as other days, but they approach an amount of people surrounding one of the gates, with Kyungsoo soon running and yelling, "I think this is the one!"

Jongin is still walking from meters away, but he takes his time while Kyungsoo reaches for his phone at the inner pocket of his denim jacket, dialing numbers and placing the gadget right next to his ear. He doesn't hear him, but he sees the urgency in Kyungsoo's panicked face as he stands behind the crowd of people, jumping a few times to peek over their heads and see if Chanyeol had already come out of the gate along with the other passengers.

Jongin reads Kyungsoo's lips, the words _'Where are you?'_  slipping past them and forming into a slight frown over the possibility of missing his chance already weighing him down.

What he doesn't see, however, is the ridiculously tall man that makes his way towards where he stands from the opposite side, looking at him with genuine surprise crossing his face and arms that subtly wrap around the smaller man's figure from behind.

Kyungsoo doesn’t see what Jongin sees—the way he turns to meet Chanyeol's soft gaze, his own face turning into a display of multicoloured emotions: recognition, bliss, and contentment all at once.

Right then, as if the world had gone slow motion, Jongin watches his favorite person belong in the arms of another.

 

****  
  
People always knew Jongin and Kyungsoo would end up together someday. Being inseparable since college, it was almost as if they were an impending love story waiting to happen—the typical ‘friends to lovers’ kind of story like something straight out of a romance novel. The transition of their relationship had become both gradual and simple, that as soon as they graduated and stepped out of the university’s building, _things just kind of fell into place_ , as Kyungsoo would say.

Their lives changed just as the real world had quickly caught up to them. After a year’s worth of their savings put together, they decided to settle down in a three-story apartment located at a tiny street in Seoul, starting from the bottom and climbing up the ladder with each determined step taking them towards their future together.

Things were bright and exciting for the both of them, to say the least. Their careers soared to unpredictable heights, their love taking them even higher. At one point, Kyungsoo had told Jongin that he couldn’t ask for anything more, that whatever they had was _enough_.

Until there was Park Chanyeol; until he stepped inside the art gallery Kyungsoo worked in with his twinkling eyes and big teeth, coming into the picture and making his way into his heart.

If he remembers correctly, he had met Chanyeol twice—once when he had brought Kyungsoo home from their first date, and the other when they had sent him off to Los Angeles.

There are things that remain the same, Jongin thinks as he glances at the man feeding Kyungsoo a spoon of his bibimbap, dressed in a smile that reveals a plenty amount of teeth and eyes that look like sparkles.

Situated at the corner table of a korean restaurant, he silently watches the two lovers in front of him lose themselves in conversation, perhaps in each other. He's lost too, isolated and out of place from a topic that doesn't interest him as much as it interested them. It is when he catches the stars in Kyungsoo's eyes—staring at Chanyeol like he'd saved the world in his past life—does he decide that the best choice is to isolate himself even if it was unnecessary.

He then proceeds to lift the metal chopsticks in his hand and snips the kimchi with his teeth, chewing and savoring the sour taste in his tongue. It's a perfect excuse for the stoic expression he imagined his face gave away in this moment such that even the walls can see it.

And then Jongin realizes that it's the first time they'd ever sat down like this—the three of them dining together. It was also probably the last, since there wasn't a need for this to happen the second time around. If Jongin were to be really honest, then no, he's not exactly comfortable with the idea of this even happening again.

But it's not because Jongin hates Chanyeol. That's not true. It wasn't his fault he has a share of his boyfriend's heart. Not really. Kyungsoo's heart was unbelievably large. He had always admired him for it, but he was also still trying to accept that it was big enough to let two people in.

The pained feeling strikes him pretty damn hard today, with their shared laughs and subtle stares working him up and prickling at his skin like wildfire.

It doesn't help that as soon as lunch is done, Kyungsoo lets Jongin know that he'll be sleeping over at Chanyeol's place tonight.

"Of course," he manages a smile.

"Thank you, Jongin." Chanyeol greets politely, "It was really nice to see you again."

He looks up at the sincere grin on the taller man's face, glancing once then avoiding his eyes to stare back at Kyungsoo looking at him shyly.

"You too." Jongin replies.

Kyungsoo reaches for Jongin's hand, a familiar warmth spreading through his body like the sun that shines on his partner's face. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

There are some things that remain the same, like Kyungsoo's velvety voice and the way he plants a soft kiss on his cheek each time he leaves.

Some things stay the same, Jongin thinks again, except Kyungsoo walks farther away from him with Chanyeol's hand in his without looking back.

And he will have to go home without him, not knowing if he'll ever ready for something like this.

 

****  
  
Jongin wonders if the bed feels too light or too heavy; if the emptiness of the room compensates for the hefty weight of his chest. Kyungsoo hasn't come home in four days, but had called beforehand to ask if he could extend his stay with Chanyeol.

"I was hoping we could make up for lost time," Kyungsoo had spoken unhurriedly, voice pondering over the phone. "I missed Chanyeol a lot. I just want to get used to his face again."

_I miss you too_ , Jongin had wanted to say.

Who was he not to allow him, when he'd agreed to this since the beginning? Their relationship had been built out of commitment and compromise—lots of it.

So once again, Jongin had bitten his tongue and let him, the words <i>’I’ll see you soon’</i> wishing him a good night wrapped inside a promise.

As he continues to lay alone on top of the bed, he watches the clock tick and thinks about how they resemble its hands that move about—Chanyeol being the longer hand and Jongin falling short—both running after time.

 

 

In the middle of September, something changes unexpectedly. They come together by Chanyeol’s request and gather at a private function room in front of a round table for three with candlelight dinner prepared at the center. The restaurant is dim and fancy, a bit elegant for Jongin’s taste. Kyungsoo sits casually next to him while Chanyeol stays across from them.

It seems to be just like any other night, but there’s something about the lack of playfulness in Chanyeol’s eyes that makes Jongin grow uncomfortable. Once they finish their meals, a waiter brings a bottle of red wine to their table and pours it over to each of their glasses. Jongin can still see Chanyeol’s body looking tense, restrained, like there’s something that’s holding him back. He wants to confront him, but Kyungsoo already beats him to it.

“What’s all this about, Chanyeol?” Kyungsoo asks, “You didn’t have to prepare so much. We could have just had ramen if you wanted to talk.”

Something’s not right, Jongin can see the way Chanyeol regards him with an anxious look before glancing towards Kyungsoo. He feels like an outsider. He doesn’t even know why he’s here.

“I thought this would be the perfect place to talk to both of you,” Chanyeol answers nervously, “You love it here, don’t you?”

“I do, but I also love when we’re practical. You know how I appreciate our extravagant days, but I love our lazy days so much more.”

“That’s why I asked for us to meet here.”

It’s in this moment when Chanyeol rises, approaching Kyungsoo until he stands right between their seats. Suddenly, he kneels.

“Oh my god,” Kyungsoo gasps as Jongin's eyes suddenly grow wide in panic.

“What the fuck is going on right now?”

Jongin wonders if it’s possible to have a million thoughts rushing through his head, because with Chanyeol on one bended knee, it might just be.

“I know this looks crazy, but please let me do this just once.”

His heart leaps out of his chest, uncertain of what is happening in front of them.

"I’d be lying if I said that I’ve never had doubts about where our relationship was heading, Kyungsoo.” Chanyeol begins, hands resting on top of his knee, “Staying in a different country for two months was like a test on how long I could take without seeing you. We’d do video calls and send each other messages often, but it was hard. I felt like I was talking to someone who was there, but not with me, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was harder for me more than it was hard for you because, well, you have Jongin.”

Chanyeol glances at said man then, casting him a small smile before looking back at Kyungsoo and reaching inside the inner pocket of his coat to pull something out.

“It was never a problem with me, in fact I'm grateful, even if it made me miss you more. Sure, I was bad at being alone, but coming back to you made me realize something else—I’m terrible at being apart from you.”

Jongin watches as Chanyeol reaches out, taking Kyungsoo’s hand in his own. He twists it around—palm facing up—before placing another hand over his.

When he pulls away, two house keys lie on top of Kyungsoo’s hand.

Out of all the things Jongin had expected, the least is this. It takes him a moment to put two and two together, but Kyungsoo looks at Chanyeol as if he’d already thought far ahead.

“What I wanted  to really say is that I love all our days,” Chanyeol says, smiling. “And I can only imagine how nice it’d be to spend more days with you.”

 

****  
  
The drive on the way home is silent, save from the music that flows freely through the speaker. It leaves the couple more room to absorb the twisted turn of events, but that doesn’t mean Jongin has nothing to say when they make it back to the apartment.

He pushes the door open with its strong force slamming noisily against the wall. He walks briskly inside then heads straight towards the balcony, frustratedly running his fingers through his hair as the cool rush of air bites into his skin.

"What the hell was that?" Jongin asks, somewhat furious, "Does he really think it's that easy to move in with someone?”

He hears the noise of the sliding door being shut behind him but doesn’t attempt to turn around.

“It took us a year’s worth of our earnings before we could have our own place. <i>A year’s worth of hard work.</i>” He rests his hands on the ledge of the balcony, reasoning with himself, “And now he thinks he can just come back from Los Angeles and suddenly say, ‘hey, I like you too much, why don’t we live together? Oh yeah, your boyfriend can come too’!”

When he does look back he’s met with Kyungsoo’s inscrutable face, forgetting that he can see right through him.

“You’re actually considering this.” Jongin says.

Kyungsoo leans back against the sliding door, with his hands hiding behind him.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“But you do.”

Kyungsoo doesn’t answer, but the look in his eyes gives everything away. Jongin’s body slides down, sitting on the ground while his back hits the ledge. Kyungsoo walks closer to him, taking his place next to him with their knees knocking against each other. His answer is hesitant as he brings a hand to the back of his neck.

“I don’t know, maybe?” Kyungsoo contemplates, shrugging. “I think it’s a lot to digest in one night.”

Jongin scoffs at his remark, “Uh, _you_ _think_?”

Out of the blue, a laugh carefully slips from Kyungsoo’s mouth—quiet at first, until it becomes all the sound that reaches Jongin’s ears, with every cluttered thought slowly fading into his lover’s smile followed by his own light-hearted laughter.

Kyungsoo leans comfortably on his shoulder with a sigh.

“Although it is a lovely thought,” Kyungsoo begins, “to have my two favorite people living under one roof.”

Jongin frowns.

“I’m not so sure about that.”

Kyungsoo’s chin rests on top of his shoulder, looking up at him from the corner of his eye. “It could be, if you try to cut him some slack. Chanyeol means well.”

“I know,” he murmurs, lowering his head in shame, “I’m sorry.”

“Does that mean you’ll think about it? Living with him?”

“…Maybe.”

They fall into their own quiet space for awhile, enjoying each other’s company at the balcony outside of their apartment while they listen to their steady breathing.

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo speaks, “Can you tell me what it is that bothers you so much?”

_Fear. Chanyeol. The fear of being an outsider in Kyungsoo’s world, unwelcomed._

“Losing this,” Jongin answers truthfully, “Home.”

Kyungsoo slowly pulls away to tap his shoulder. When Jongin looks up, his face is in the other’s hands, placing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Who ever said anything about anyone being homeless?” Kyungsoo asks, following his eyes which regard the interior of their shared unit, “You mean this apartment? A home isn’t just four walls, love. Come here.”

The moon shines above them as stars scatter around the night sky, and Jongin takes in the warmth of Kyungsoo’s arms that wrap around his body and keep him safe, like his very own blanket.

“Now, _this_ , this definitely feels like _home_ , doesn’t it?”

In this moment, Jongin thinks he’s absolutely right.

 

****  
  
Jongin does think about living with Chanyeol. He still thinks about it, even as he carries the last of his boxes outside of the apartment building and drops them into the back of his car. When Jongin hops into the driver’s seat, Kyungsoo is already sitting at the passenger’s side, waving at Chanyeol who is getting inside the vehicle in front of them.

The drive to Chanyeol’s place takes twenty minutes, twenty more minutes for Jongin think about his choices. Frankly, whatever he thinks, he will always have just one choice—to go wherever Kyungsoo goes, even if he has to live inside the home of his other lover.

As they continue to follow Chanyeol’s car and enter the village of Burgundy Hills, they shoot surprised glances towards each industrial house inside. The houses situated next to each other could become one house altogether, with identical white exterior walls and black wooden structures.

His anxiety starts to kick in, the memories of apartment unit 2B and the home he’d built now burned in ashes and buried by Chanyeol’s beautiful world.

 

 

 


	4. iv. goldenexo2017: the forgotten prince - kaisoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a/n: wasn't able to think of a summary for this, but in kyungsoo's alternate life, he was once a prince and jongin was his dresser. Did a little research on this forgotten prince in the chosun dynasty named Yi Seok. His story is really interesting. Inspired by Lana Del Rey's "Love".

 

**IV.**

**for goldenexo 2017**   
****

**the forgotten prince**

**kaisoo**

 

-*-

 

_Once upon a time_. That's how fairytales would begin. In some past storybook life, there lives a king and queen inside a beautiful castle. The queen would give birth to a prince—handsome and charming—destined to become the next heir to the throne. The prince would one day fall in love with a princess, and they shall live happily ever after.

The life that Kyungsoo lives, however, is anything but a fairytale.

“So what is it exactly are we trying to find here again?”

He brushes past the trees, waving off every obstacle of leaves and branches in front of him with his arms. The idea to abandon biology class and explore the ruins of the school’s palace  property was spontaneous but not impossible, thus leading him and Baekhyun behind the school building and bringing them deep into the tiny forest. From where he stands at the moment, he can already see the palace’s tall structure a few meters away from them. A thrilled smile crosses his face.

“Answers,” Kyungsoo exclaims excitedly, turning back to his friend who is struggling a bit and in the middle of swatting one of the branches out of his way and vision. “We’re archaeology students, Baekhyun. Aren’t we always digging something up?”

“Yeah sure, but answers to what?” Baekhyun asks quizzically. They take noisy steps towards the palace with snapped branches crunching beneath their shoes when he adds, “And no, I don’t think it’s a requirement to always be _digging_ , at least not literally.”

“To history, of course! Think of all the secrets we’ll be able to find in that palace.”

“You’re playing this entitled student card really well, my friend,” he comments, “Although don’t you think this would have been a better idea if, you know, we’d gotten permission from the laboratory?”

Kyungsoo pauses and fully spins right then, facing Baekhyun with a blank expression as he crosses his arms in front of him.

“Baekhyun. Do you know how long it takes to get the Dean’s approval if we’d gone through the anthropology department? This is our only chance of getting a closer look before history students are lining up and filling up the scheduled visiting hours this week. Going through all that hassle is just pointless.”

They continue to trudge quietly past the trees, heading further and further into the forest. They even come across a yellow cautioned tape blocking their path to the palace, but Kyungsoo chooses to ignore it and slowly steps over the tape with Baekhyun begrudgingly following suit. When they finally enter the gates and stop in front of the palace’s main door, Kyungsoo’s smile grows into a triumphant grin, pushing them open so that the sun’s light filters inside.

“Besides, time is an essential part of our lives, wouldn’t you agree?” Kyungsoo stares enchantedly, “All we’re doing is not wasting any part of it.”

He steps inside courageously, beaming as he views the palace’s walls that are still intact but in an evidently aged state. At the center of the main hall is a grand staircase divided into two parts that lead to different parts of the palace, but for now, they remain on the first floor and roam around, taking in the interior while the smell of dirt and cement accompany them. He notices a huge amount of dust off one of the old furniture and swipes it off with his finger.

“It doesn’t seem like any other student would have plans of visiting this place anytime soon,” Baekhyun remarks, scrunching his nose as the dust spreads across the thin air and vanishes. “Even looks like the floor would crumble and suddenly crack under us if we took another step.”

“The school is self-preserving the palace's architecture, of course it's going to seem that way.” Kyungsoo answers in defense.

“I still don’t understand why we’re here in the first place.”

Truthfully, neither does he. The answers he seek are beyond his own comprehension, but the thirst for something adventurous lies within him, an act of impulse that had hit him out of the blue.

"You don't need to understand," he tells him, "You just have to keep looking around."

He starts to ascend the first few flight of stairs. In the middle of the staircase's division is another hallway, leading to a room at the very end of it.

Before Kyungsoo knows it, he's already by the door, stepping inside and crossing more boundaries than intended.

The first thing he notices is how this side of the palace catches the most light, sunrays peeking in from the tall glass windows on either side of the room. He walks across and sees everything much clearly now, from the large chandeliers hanging on the ceiling to the corinthian columns and crimson velvet curtains surrounding the ballroom.

It feels as if Kyungsoo was living in another time, with giant dramatic portraits placed at every corner of the room and the history left inside them. There is so much of it inside this palace that he sees, yet it is still difficult for him to identify them, even from the amount of classes he’d taken. He stands at the center of the ballroom when a speck of silver on the floor suddenly catches his eye.

Kyungsoo bends down to pick it up, taking the piece of silver into his hand and further inspecting the fine piece of jewellery. The sun shines down on it, revealing small spectacles of light as he twists it in his hand. He finds a needle is attached to the base, and that is when he discerns that the jewellery he is staring at is a diamond flower brooch. He gazes down at the elegant details in amazement as the brooch glistens and glows under the daylight. There is a small diamond at the center of the brooch which is faced towards him and with his reflection caught staring back.

The faintest sound of the school bell rings, but it is in that moment when his eyes meet its reflection that also brings a pain to the back of Kyungsoo’s head—a sharp quick strike that comes in sudden waves of tremor and flashes of memories when he shuts his eyes.

 

_Kyungsoo sees the transition of hands—Hands pinning the brooch in place. Hands stitching fabric pieces together. Hands ghosting along an arm, touching, reaching over._

 

_ Another memory arrives in the form of gunshots fired, skies dark and heavy with the scent of blood.   The scene transitions then, a man with his back turned to him dressed in royal traditional garment accompanied by a voice humming a familiar melody into his ear. _

 

_And then he hears a name being called—Do Sook. Do Sook. Do—_

  
  


“Kyungsoo!”

The bell is still ringing when Baekhyun bursts through the door and Kyungsoo opens his eyes, brought back to reality inside the ballroom of the palace.

“Do you hear that? It’s the first bell!” Baekhyun panics, “We have to get out of here before someone sees us.”

He tugs on Kyungsoo’s arm when he unexpectedly loses grip of the brooch and it drops on the floor. He doesn’t lose sight of it as he’s being dragged out of the ballroom, and as they’re close to the door he gains control of his own arm and pulls away from him.

“You go ahead,” He suggests, “I’ll be right there with you. I just need a few more seconds. Cover for me?”

Baekhyun rolls his eyes and groans as if he’d expected this to happen.

“You’re a lunatic. How are we friends again?”

 

He runs out the door when Kyungsoo turns back, darting towards the brooch where he had seen it fall. Just as he bends down and takes the brooch from the ground again, he sees footsteps approaching him. Thinking in some illogical way that Baekhyun had come back, he looks up with a sheepish smile, only to be met with overwhelming dark brown eyes on a tall lean body and sun-kissed skin.

Surprise catches up to Kyungsoo once he stands upright, frozen on the spot from the way the man’s eyes stare intensely back at his own. He’s sure that he doesn’t recognise him, he doesn’t even think he’s seen him at any side of the school premises, but there’s something about his hands that tell him something more, something much more than he knows.

He hears the second bell ring, but what comes next is unbelievable—the man’s head bows down along with his body, kneeling before him. Goosebumps quickly rise upon Kyungsoo’s skin then, while mixed emotions of confusion and shock crosses his face.

Their eyes meet when the man raises his head, and only one word slips out from his mouth.

 

_Prince_.

  
  
  
  


 


End file.
